Quarters for a Five Dollar Bill
by Oscillating Fan
Summary: Stan is a famous football play who gets mixed up in a scandal.  He's shipped off to his high school reunion to get his act together where he's intrigued by Craig Tucker.  Maybe he needs a different kind of push.
1. Chapter 1

Quarters for a Five Dollar Bill

Chapter One

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><p>Stan Marsh didn't even know why he came back to this shitty ass town. Oh wait, no, he did because of his hard ass of an agent that couldn't keep her fucking nose out of his life. Christ, a fucking high school reunion? She said it would be a good time to take a break and just lay low given the tabloids' heat over the Miami incident. Heh, Miami. Now that had been a blast. He got so fucking shit faced, went to a hotel room with a couple of seriously hot Cubans, and the next day there were photos all over the Internet and rumors of a possible video. There had been a meeting with the team managers, investors, and coaches and everyone agreed that he should just take a couple of weeks off to get his shit together. The under laying message that Stan got was go sober up and readjust your priorities or we're sending you fucking packing.<p>

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. He really hadn't seen his folks in a while and that was the most important thing. He just hated the idea of going back to fucking South Park. There was nothing for him there. When he called his mom to let her know he'd attend the reunion she sounded overenthusiastic. Said he could catch up with his friends, they were doing pretty well for themselves these days, and called often to check up on him. He snorted, doubtful. If they wanted to see what he was up to all they had to do was pick up the latest copy of US Weekly.

"You're a wreck waiting to happen," his agent said as she handed him his carry on bag. "Seriously take some time to just chill out. Avoid the drink. Talk with your family. Didn't your sister have a baby not too long ago?"

Oh yeah, Stan thought. He was an uncle now.

His agent gave him a tight smile. "I'll see you here in two weeks. Have a good vacation."

Stan rolled his eyes and shuffled towards security. At least the airport had been accommodating enough to let him breeze through all the bureaucratic bullshit of the ticket lines so that in only half an hour he was sitting in first class waiting to head back to Denver. From there a driver would take him to his parents' house in South Park. His mother insisted he stay at home instead of checking into a hotel. She had a surprise for him when he got there, she said.

He spent most of the flight dozing in and out. He had one last hurrah at a teammate's house the previous night. No one had kept alcohol from him but the girls had all been convinced to stay away. He was better off, anyway. He really couldn't trust any of the chicks that made their way to the clubs or VIP events he attended. One of the flight attendants woke him up as the plane taxied to its gate at Denver International. Somehow his agent had gotten the press off his heels for his arrival. It was the quietest trip to the airport he had experienced in a long time. When he exited baggage claim his driver flagged him down and in no time at all he was staring out the window as the mountainous wintry landscape flew by. He sat up in his seat when he spied the sign welcoming travelers to South Park.

"I'm home," he grumbled, feeling oddly depressed. He glared as the driver took him through the town towards the suburban section on the other side. Stan had mixed feelings seeing the familiar yet foreign streets. It looked like most families hadn't ever left.

Finally they pulled up in front of the Marsh residence. Before he had fully gotten out of the car the front door opened. His mother came out first a huge smile on her gracefully aging face and jogged to him with her arms out wide. He smiled awkwardly back and accepted her hug amazed at how tiny she was now compared to his bulking form.

"Stan," she cried happily and hugged him firmly around the middle. "I'm so happy to see you, baby."

"Missed you too, Mom," he allowed himself a genuine smile. No matter what kind of a funk he was in he could never really take it out on his mother.

"Randy, come on out," she called towards the house taking a firm hold of her son's hand.

Randy Marsh shuffled out of the house shivering slightly at the cold wind and shoved his hands into his pockets before meandering down the pathway. His father's hair was graying at an alarming rate but he still seemed like his same old stubborn self.

"Welcome home, Stan," he smiled. Stan felt surprised again to see that he had outgrown his other parent as well.

"Hey dad, how's it going?"

His father nodded and helped the driver with Stan's bag. Stan made a move to get it but his mother tugged firmly at his arm.

"Let Randy help out, come on inside and see what I've done!" He followed her inside the warm house. She clawed at his coat hanging it on his old peg in the closet and poked him in the small of his back in the direction of the stairs. He climbed them with her hot on his heels talking about how Shelly would be coming in with the baby and her husband the next morning. She wiggled around him and put a hand on his bedroom door. He looked at her, not really sure what to expect and she gave him another smile. They were starting to break his heart for some reason. She pushed the door open and together they peered inside.

"It's the same," he marveled.

When Stan came home during the last holiday break of college he had gotten into a huge fight with his father. They almost came to throwing fists and wrecked quite a few of his mother's favorite dishes in the process of their argument. All he could remember about it was that Sharon screamed at him to not leave as he did just that. He didn't even let them know when his graduation was. He walked off the stage with his Bachelors in English and straight onto the bus heading off to his first professional football training camp. It had only been a couple of years now since he began sporadic communication with his family again. Mostly it had been Shelly's fault what with her getting married and threatening to fly out to where he was and drag him kicking and screaming to her wedding. Looking around the room he felt ashamed for being so immature. He couldn't even remember what that fight had been about.

His father walked in with his suitcase and Stan took it from him easily moving it out of the way. His father tried to hide the overexertion required for him to bring it up the stairs and Stan wished he had insisted on carrying it himself.

"I got it all set up for you and cleared out the dressers and put hangers in the closet," she squeezed his arm and went to stand next to his father. "I'm so glad you're home, Stanley."

He smiled at her in return and put his carry on next to his bed. They left him alone to unpack and freshen up after the long flight. Stan rubbed at his eyes and ears wishing he could take a nap. He lay back on his bed and stared at the same view of the ceiling he had known his entire life. It didn't quite feel like home in the sense that he felt safe. It did feel familiar enough for him to let his eyes flutter shut. _Just for a few minutes_, he thought.

When he opened his eyes the sun had already set. He grunted as he got up into a sitting position and rubbed at his forehead. Only the stars in the sky seemed to bring any light to the room. It cast long, eerie shadows over little league trophies, certificates from middle school, and a sloppily pinned up collection of photos he recognized as being from high school. He walked to his desk, flipped on the familiar wire lamp and smiled at the photos.

Four adolescents made silly faces back at him. He studied their faces naming them in turn. Kyle, nothing but the end of high school could keep them separated. Kenny, from what he understood the bastard never made it anywhere but maybe that would be different when he met up with him again. Cartman, intent on being part of their group through high school then fled to the east coast to study near D.C. He smiled wryly wondering what the fat fuck was up to now. Then he looked at himself awkwardly growing into an athlete's body, smiling like he didn't have a care in the world, and with all sorts of possibilities in front of him. He looked sadly at the photograph. What had happened? He switched off the light and headed downstairs to check on his parents.

Shelly, her husband, and the baby surprised the family by showing up just half an hour before Stan had woken up. She gave Stan a mocking smile and hugged him around his middle.

"Jesus, Stan, you've got more muscles than a horse at the races," she punched him in the arm. Stan barely felt it.

"Kind of essential for my line of work, don't you think?"

"We saw your commercial the other day for that sports drink," her husband, George, grinned and shook his hand. "It was some kind of impressive."

Stan waved a dismissive hand. "I don't know why they insist on making athletes appear in commercials with all those special contrasts and effects."

They laughed and Sharon brought in his niece. The women playfully scolded him as they tried to get him to hold up her head properly. She looked incredibly small tucked into his arm and he stared dumbly as Shelly insisted on showing him how to feed her. He blinked at her tiny hands and bitty fingers. He felt as though he could breathe on her and they'd break into a thousand pieces. Eventually Sharon took her back cooing over her sleepy face and asked Stan that awkward question he hated answering.

"So when are you going to settle down, hm?"

He grimaced. "Gotta find someone first, right?"

"From what I hear," Randy piped up over his newspaper, "you've been looking in all the wrong places."

"Randy," Sharon hissed and clicked her tongue as she turned back to Stan. "Ignore him. It was a bit of a shock."

Not even the people in charge of his career could make him feel as horrible about the incident as he did at that moment. His entire family staring at him with obvious disapproval but trying to hold their tongues; it made him feel wretched. Since when did his family have to walk on eggshells around him? He wished the week would hurry up and end more than ever at that moment.

They had a peaceful dinner with conversation primarily led by Randy and George discussing whatever it was that his brother-in-law did to provide for his family. Stan watched as Sharon and Shelly shared laughs over the faces the baby made. Stan felt incredibly out of place and excused himself the first available moment. He took a quick shower; finally washing the last of the tension accrued from the flight from his body and put on a pair of sweatpants before climbing into bed. He had slept for so long that he shouldn't need to sleep but as soon as his head hit the pillow he was out like a light.

The next day Stan woke up from sleeping in late for the first time in a long time. He took another shower and got dressed in the suit his agent had packed for the reunion. As he headed down the stairs he fumbled with his tie and indulged his mother in a little spin as she exclaimed how handsome he looked. His father handed over the keys to their second car and after putting on his coat Stan headed off towards the reunion. Someone thought it was an inspired idea to hold the thing at the county recreation center. Stan was not surprised he didn't get lost despite having been gone for years.

He hadn't known what to expect when he arrived signing in at the designated registration desk and pinning his name to his suit jacket. He received a few awed looks from people he vaguely recognized and immediately found himself being passed from person to person. Men shook his hand exclaiming they had bragged to all their work buddies back home they went to school with him. A few women gave him light hugs. He only recognized Wendy Testaburger, who gave him a light pat on the shoulder and introduced him to her husband. He smiled and nodded as everyone introduced their spouses and talked about their lives since school. No one asked about his life: professional or private. It kind of made Stan feel like an outsider despite all the attention he was getting.

"Hey, Stan," a voice called from behind him. He turned around slowly and saw two familiar faces grinning back at him.

"Kyle, Kenny! Where have you been?" They exchanged very masculine hugs and pats on the back. Kyle talked animatedly about his work at his father's law firm.

"Well, it's Broflovski & Sons, now," Kyle grinned.

"Sons? Ike is going to law school, too?"

"Finishes next fall," Kyle nodded.

"Jesus," Stan ran a hand through his hair. Ike Broflovski had always been three steps ahead of where you thought he'd be. Kenny didn't have much to share. He had steady work at a local garage. The pay wasn't too bad and he had been toying with the idea of going to electrician's school.

Both were married.

"We're expecting our first in four months," Kyle looked sheepishly at his feet.

"Wow," Stan breathed. "That's great, Kyle. You, too, Kenny. Really. I'm happy for you both."

"So you're living the life, huh," Kenny leered at him.

Stan rolled his eyes. "I'm supposed to take this time to get my shit together."

Kyle nodded and shuffled from one foot to the other. "You'll get it together, Stan. You always have."

"Yeah," Kenny smiled encouragingly. "Hey, I didn't mean to bring you down or anything."

Stan patted his shoulder. "No worries. Where are your wives, anyway? Don't I get to meet them?"

"She's been talking about nothing else," Kenny rolled his eyes with a grin and waved over to two women standing at a nearby table. Kenny put his arm around a plain yet pretty brunette. Kyle smiled and locked hands with an energetic looking woman with curly dirty blonde hair showing an obvious pregnancy. Stan posed for the obligatory photos with his friends and their wives. They talked about Cartman, who didn't show up, and his asinine crusades he was carrying out in the capitol.

After a while the reunion began the usual opening of a dance floor for the classmates to dance to songs from their youth. Stan waved off his friends as they led their wives to the floor and wandered around the vacated tables occasionally he would look up and laugh at the crowd. He noticed he wasn't the only one in the room not participating. Leaning against the wall beside the refreshments table and a speaker just like he did at every social function and illegal party throughout high school was Craig Tucker.

Stan blinked and made his way over to him. Craig was staring down at his dress shoes holding a cocktail in one hand with the other tucked behind his back. Craig had not been the closest of friends to Stan but some inexplicable force was pulling him towards him. Stan let his footsteps fall a little heavier as he approached to let Craig know he wasn't alone. Craig slowly raised his head and Stan raised an eyebrow in surprise. Craig had been the awkward wallflower of their class but now he was downright handsome. He had grown his hair out some in the front letting it fall a little in his grey eyes and filled in his bony facial features nicely.

"Well, well, well," Stan murmured with a light smile. "Craig Tucker."

"Marsh," Craig acknowledged with a smirk. "You look good."

Stan felt his pulse quicken something that hadn't happened since he asked a girl out to his first co-ed dance. "Fuck that, you're so… different."

Craig's lips twitched but held their smirk. "People change, Marsh. Though, everyone else says I haven't changed."

"Everyone else is blind. Mind if I join you?"

Craig inclined his head and Stan took up position against the wall next to him. They watched the dance floor filled with their former classmates and said nothing. After the third song change Stan tilted his head towards Craig.

"You want to sit and have a chat?"

"That's the point of these things," Craig glanced at him from the corner of his eyes. He kicked himself off the wall with one foot. Stan followed watching him slink like a cat to a table as far as possible from the dance floor as they could get. Stan smiled to himself as they sat down and fiddled with their drinks.

"So what are you up to these days, Craig Tucker?"

Craig rested his head on his propped up arm and looked at Stan. "I'm a teacher."

This took Stan by surprise. "No kidding."

Craig nodded once. "I teach in Denver at a high school specializing in at-risk kids."

Stan felt his eyebrows rise. "Impressive. What subject do you teach?"

"History," Craig scratched his ear. "I work with sophomores and juniors before you ask."

"That's really great, Craig," Stan smiled. "So what kind of kids are these?"

"Mostly from lower income families at-risk or already have involvement in gangs, teen pregnancy, and ESL. There are a lot of students you see on television that look like all they need is a good spanking or something. These kids really need the extra time."

Stan shook his head in wonder. "Obviously they're in good hands since you seem to really have it together."

Craig smirked again at this and set his glass down on the table. "It takes a lot of dedication and focus to make a difference."

Stan nodded lightly suddenly feeling like someone dumped a bucket of icy water down his back. "You too, huh?"

Craig chuckled. "I won't pry. I don't even really pay particular attention to sports anymore. I only know about your problems because of the kids."

Stan felt his face flush. "That's amazing, Craig."

Craig titled his head slightly and raised an eyebrow in question.

"The way you look when you talk about your students, I mean."

Craig's shoulders tensed and he looked uncertainly at Stan. "How long are you going to be in town?"

Stan sighed and leaned back in his chair. "I'm supposed to take two weeks off to get my act together. I was planning on staying for one."

Craig nodded and shifted in his seat. "Well, if you get bored with this shit hole of a town you are more than welcome to drop by in Denver. The kids—" Stan's lips parted as he saw Craig force his classic expression of indifference on his face "– the students would love to see you."

"That'd be great," Stan smiled softly. "What is the name of the school?"

Craig scratched the side of his face with his index finger then pulled out a pen from an inside pocket of his suit jacket to jot down the name and address. He slid it over to Stan and rapidly clicked his pen open and close as Stan's eyes scanned the napkin.

"There's extra here," he said in confusion.

"That's my phone number," Craig said softly. "In case you can't make it to the school and want to catch a meal or something."

Stan looked up at him. Craig gave him another smirk and Stan felt himself smiling again. He hadn't genuinely smiled this much in so long.

"You know, since everyone's preoccupied with spouses and the like," Craig shrugged a shoulder.

"And what about you?"

"What about me," Craig asked.

"Are you seeing anyone?"

Craig shook his head slowly before the most incredibly sexy smirk split across his face. "I could be."

Stan turned his head towards another vacant napkin and motioned for Craig's pen. He jotted down his own number holding it out to Craig between two fingers.

"Everyone says it but," Stan felt himself using a familiar smile usually reserved for people he wanted to seduce into his bed, "call me."

Craig's lips parted in amusement and he carefully plucked the napkin from Stan's grasp, their fingertips lightly brushing. They spent the rest of the reunion looking at each other with small smiles. Their separate groups of friends claimed them during a presentation of pictures from the past. Kyle would laugh and recount stories Stan had long forgotten to his wife. Kenny would make sassy remarks about the amount of pictures the reunion committee members put in of themselves.

"Some things never change," he said. Stan found his eyes drift in Craig's direction and smiled secretly when Craig seemed to feel his eyes and faced him in return.

"Some things do."

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><p><strong>AN:** Heh, another StanxCraig fic. This one's only three chapters long and totally already done but I'm holding off on posting it all at once so I can do some more edits. It might seem kinda disjointed but smut is the name of the game and title has… well, I guess it has relevancy if you think on it.


	2. Chapter 2

Quarters for a Five Dollar Bill

Chapter Two

Warning: Sexual content.

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><p>Stan woke up that Tuesday very early in the morning. He decided to go out for a run, smiling to himself as his feet automatically found his old jogging route through the paved streets of South Park. When he got back to the house he showered and changed into fresh clothes. It was still very early and Stan decided on an impulse to take up Craig's offer and visit the school. Truth be told, ever since the reunion he had been thinking about Craig and feeling this indescribable pull to see him again. He explained to his mother that he wanted to head into Denver for a bit of sight seeing and to catch up with some of his classmates. It wasn't entirely a lie and she smiled happily as she handed over her car keys. Stan promised himself to take the car in for an oil change, tune up, or whatever else it needed before he left at the end of the week.<p>

He wrote down directions from the house to the school and jingled the keys absentmindedly as he headed to the car. The trip seemed to go by in a blur and it only took him twenty minutes to locate the campus. He triple checked that he was parked in the appropriate visitor's section and followed the signs instructing visitors to sign in. He smiled shyly as the personnel and scant students in the office recognized him.

"Hi, I'm here to visit Craig Tucker?"

"Mr. Tucker?" The receptionist looked shocked. "Oh, honey, ain't that… wow." She clacked the keys on her keyboard and instructed him to sign in on the visitors' clipboard while she printed him a pass. "My son loves you, by the way," she smiled as she pressed the pass into his hand.

"Thank you," he smiled. "Which direction is his classroom?"

"Oh, he's in room 317 at the other end of the building, I'm afraid. This'll be a surprise for him for sure," her tone suggested something was a little off.

"Isn't he already here?"

"He has first period for conference so he gets here a little late most days," she explained.

He nodded and thanked her again, giving small smiles to students as he passed them in the hall. It didn't take long for him to find the classroom and that was mostly because first period was still in session. When he got to the room, he found it was unlocked and the light inside turned off. He let himself in and flipped the switch. He whistled low under his breath as he surveyed the classroom. Familiar looking desks were lined up with beat up textbooks tucked underneath them, a sign of massive budget cuts. He looked at Craig's desk; it was littered with stacks of papers, office supplies, and gifts from students. On the walls behind his desk were posters for bands Stan had never heard of, mostly indie and new wave bands from what he could tell. He smiled widely when he spotted a few posters of musicians Craig's students obviously hung up for him.

He nearly jumped out of his skin as a very loud, grating ringing echoed through the room. The halls exploded with the sound of teenagers shouting and laughing as they made their way from one class to the next. Stan looked at the floor, shoving his hands into his pockets, and smiled as he listened. There were sounds of chattering gossip, boys free styling, and an endless stream of Spanish. Stan wondered what he should say to explain his unannounced presence in the classroom to Craig when a small group of students entered the room.

They immediately stopped whatever loud conversation they were having when they saw him.

"_Holy shit!_ It's Stan Marsh!"

Stan smiled at them, "Hey, guys."

They danced around with surprised and excited looks on their faces. Stan laughed as they shook his hand and told him how great he was. Soon more students had entered the room and while not all of them knew who he was the rest were all too happy to rattle off his statistics and fill them in.

"So what are you doing here, man?"

"I happen to know Craig… I mean, Mr. Tucker. From high school."

"_No fucking way_! Oh, my bad. No way!"

"Mr. Tucker never mentioned you," one of the students sulked. "This is so awesome can we get your autograph?"

Stan laughed and said they had to wait until Mr. Tucker showed up. They groaned but continued getting excited about his presence. They directed him to a desk and he sat on the table top with his feet up on the seat since he was too big to fit inside it. Several of the boys emulated him after pushing desks closer to him and before he knew it the entire class was gathered around him.

"So," he cleared his throat amazed at how instantaneously the students fell silent, "tell me what Mr. Tucker is like."

"Yo, dude, Mr. Tucker is fucking _crazy_, man," one of Craig's students laughed. "We'll be all like talking still after the bell and he gets up and goes 'Shut the hell up you little shits!' it's super bad ass man."

Another kid waved his hand for Stan's attention. "He was trying to show us something with the science teacher last week. Something about how they used to think the universe worked in the past or something."

"Geocentric system, dumbass," one of the girls jeered.

Everyone laughed, calling the kid out before letting him finish. "Anyway, the science teacher thought it was stupid but Mr. Tucker took us outside and showed us with these basketballs and footballs and stuff how it all worked. He can't throw for shit but it was fun."

Stan laughed with the other students huddled around him in the classroom. As excited as they were to see him walk in the door they seemed even more excited over the fact that Stan Marsh knew their history teacher. After talking about his past few games, Stan encouraged them to tell him all about Mr. Tucker and they were only too happy to oblige.

"He's the only reason I even come to this lame ass school," one of the girls said. "I don't give two shits about the subject but he doesn't hold stuff against us. You know? Like, I can mess up and he'll say I can do better and I know he's right. He takes a lot of time to work with us."

"He's kinda cute, too, right? For a white guy, I mean," another girl spoke through a thick Latin accent.

"I know that's right," another girl said from the back of the group. Some girls started teasing her while others agreed.

Stan found himself laughing with them and rubbed his chin with his fingers. One of the biggest parts of an athlete's contract is doing community outreach. Stan could be the face of all the toy drives, all the recycling ads, and plant all the trees handed to him and still not make this kind of an impact on another person's life. These kids adored Craig. He was a much better role model than he could ever hope to be and that was the fucked up part because it was Craig Tucker.

_People change, Marsh._ That's exactly right, Stan thought.

"What's all this?" The entire room turned to see the topic of their conversation standing in the doorway. Stan pursed his lips together as he studied him. Craig looked sharp in a form fitting white dress shirt with dark grey vest and slacks. He had a beaten up leather messenger bag across his lanky torso and was holding a cup of coffee. His grey eyes were narrowed until they met Stan's when they widened a fraction. "Stan?"

"Dude, Mr. Tucker, why didn't you say you knew a football player?"

Craig snapped out of his reverie and blinked at the student standing in front of him.

"Uh," he said intelligently, "it never came up in conversation, did it?"

"If I knew him I'd be bragging about it," a different student shouted and received permission from some other students to brag about knowing them when they were famous.

"Now that's just fantastic," Craig pointed with an extended index finger. "Now you went off and got those poor bastards' hopes up." Stan laughed with the rest of the class. Craig gave him a warm smile eyes twinkling with amusement as he passed them to put his bag at his desk.

"Well, we were going to start talking about the shift to the Han Dynasty in China today," he sighed dramatically, "but I guess we could take a break with a guest speaker?"

The class cheered and shouted out questions pleasantly overwhelming Stan as he tried to isolate one question at a time.

"All right, all right, _all right!_" Craig raised his voice over the din and glared at the intermittent giggles that spread through the classroom. "First thing's first. Sit down in your seats properly. Stan, don't set a bad example."

"Yes, sir," Stan murmured in amusement. Craig shot him a warning look and fished out a spare chair for him from behind his desk. The students hurriedly set their desks back in order and sat down for their surprise lesson. "What should I say?"

"How about the importance of goals? Motivate these kids to go to college," Craig smiled at him coyly and sauntered backwards to his desk. Stan had to force down the sudden animalistic desire to charge at Craig and pin him down to something and… well, he couldn't think about that at the moment with children in the room.

Stan sat down in the chair Craig brought out for him and shared his experiences in high school and the temptations fame led you to.

"Yeah we know about that," two guys in the back high fived, causing the class to laugh.

Stan nodded and made a 'you caught me' kind of gesture before looking at them seriously. "It isn't as exciting as you'd think."

He took a deep breath as they fell silent. "You all have problems at home, right? You feel a little alienated because your parents work a lot or just aren't around. You feel pressure in school to be like everyone else and not make an ass of yourself." They laughed and nodded in understanding. Stan was amazed at their maturity.

"Fame is kind of the same thing. You get pressured into going to parties or taking certain endorsement deals that end up working against you. You get caught in a scandal because even though you endorse Coke you were drinking a Pepsi at a team barbeque and someone posted the picture of it on their Facebook account. You are told you have to go to this party because it's a great opportunity to make some connections because let's face it, an athlete's body doesn't stay like this forever," he gestured to himself noting how Craig stilled and tensed from the corner of his eye.

"Well, that's when you get overwhelmed by the atmosphere and make mistakes. I have made plenty of mistakes and I can sit here and tell you that I should have listened to the advice of my old teachers and coaches until I'm blue in the face. The fact is once you're out in the real world you don't have those people helping you out or giving you guidance any more. What's important is to become the person you want to be now, while you have them around to help motive and encourage you. The earlier you develop good habits the better off you'll be down the road."

"But is it really so bad," a student piped up from near the door, "getting to party with all those babes and sleeping with them?" Chuckles spread softly through the room.

"In the moment, when you're not using your best judgment," he bit his lip at their questioning looks, "with alcohol, you think it's great. What you're doing is losing control, though. How many of you have been told by your counselors that you lack self-control?" Quite a few hands rose and Stan nodded. "You think they're giving you heat _now_ wait until you've done something you can't take back."

"Have you," Craig's voice broke through the stillness, "done something you can't take back?"

Stan looked at him thoughtfully for a moment. "Yes."

"What do you plan to do about it?"

"Wait, Mr. Tucker," a student interrupted. "Those pictures at that party of him with the girls aren't anything, man."

"Oh?" Craig raised an eyebrow without looking at his student. He continued to stare at Stan eyes shining with intelligence making Stan felt like he was being tested.

"It hurt my family," Stan turned back to the students. "You think that getting fined, divorced, or losing your rank is bad? I'm not going to lie, the parties are a lot of fun but it is up to each of us to be responsible. My family is disappointed in me and that hurts more than anything else."

"Why is that?" Craig didn't let up at all; Stan licked his lips nervously not wanting to back down. He felt like he had something to prove not just to Craig but himself.

"My family is the most important thing. The people I care about are hurt. It doesn't matter if it was something a small as getting your photo taken. What I have to do now is set a better example and prove I'm better than that."

The students nodded in understanding. Craig gave him an approving smile and allowed his class to ask whatever questions they wanted. Most of them were about celebrities Stan had been seen with but didn't really know, they asked how hard training was, and they asked if he knew what he wanted to do after he couldn't play anymore. He did his best to answer the questions honestly and freely shared embarrassing tidbits with them. Craig looked down at his crossed ankles and smiled Stan continuously eyeing him from the corner of his eyes.

"So what was Mr. Tucker like in high school?"

Craig looked up his face beginning to flush and Stan couldn't help the teasing grin that spread on his face.

"Oh let's see, he was totally anti-social," his grin grew as the class laughed. "Somehow he had a lot of friends, though. He was one of those guys who walked around like they were too cool for the rest of us." The class made faces and Craig laughed indulgently.

"Did you think he'd be a teacher?"

"No," Stan replied honestly. "I never would have suspected it but after catching up I can tell he's good at his job, right?"

"Sometimes," a student teased. The rest laughed.

"So Raoul will be joining me in detention this afternoon," Craig made a show of writing the student's name down on a legal pad. The student sputtered with a smile on his face and Stan observed Craig had one on, too. He had never seen Craig Tucker smile so much.

The class period ended and Craig said Stan was free to talk with the next group of students. The period went about in a similar fashion as the previous. The students were eager to hear about his experiences and excited to learn more about their teacher in the process. Stan wished he had more things about Craig to talk about. The second class period ended quicker than the previous.

Craig stretched at his desk, reminding Stan of a cat again and stood up. "This is my lunch break. We can head outside for a bit after one of my students stops by."

Stan nodded and occupied himself with looking at the other decorations on the classroom walls. Craig had decided to forego the usual inspirational posters and instead there were maps and projects created by other students. Suddenly a small, scared looking Hispanic student entered the room and nodded shyly to Stan before walking to Craig's desk. Craig spoke to him in a low, soothing voice the student nodding and finally giving him a smile. Craig opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a few prepackaged crackers, raisins, and granola. He handed them to the student and said something else before they turned around and quickly walked out the door.

Stan looked at Craig questioningly and Craig smiled. "He's one of the homeless kids. The school board cut a lot of funding with the free lunch program and his social worker is a complete failure."

Stan was stunned speechless. That kid looked completely innocent and was undeserving of the harshness he was experiencing. Craig motioned for Stan to follow him and the two made their way outside and around to a secluded corner of the building. Stan supposed it was the back drop off for students in the morning.

"Is there anything I can do to help out?" Stan asked sheepishly.

Craig glared at him, "We don't need money to support at-risk kids from someone trying to get his own shit together."

Stan flinched. Craig had a point, but still. "I just want to help. Those kids love you, Craig."

He watched as Craig crossed his arms and looked away hastily. Seeing Craig rejecting him like this made Stan feel despair. He wracked his brain for a way to make things right between them.

"I don't mean to insult you, Craig. Or what you do. I'm just so used to being around fake people that when I finally get to be with normal ones I kind of want to back off," Stan looked down at his hands. "I forget how to get involved when I want to."

Craig looked at him with narrowed eyes. "Fake people aren't good for you, Marsh. If you keep surrounding yourself with them you'll wake up one day and find yourself utterly alone."

"I don't have anyone else around me but fake people," Stan laughed sardonically.

"You just reconnected with people from your past," Craig suggested. "You just sobbed to those kids about how important your family is to you. You need to put in the effort to keep those connections open."

Stan nodded. "It sounds kind of weird hearing you say that, no offense."

Craig shrugged. "Like I told you, people change. It's an inevitability of human nature. We adapt to survive."

"And you're surviving?"

Craig looked at him in surprise. "Barely," he admitted after a few minutes of silence.

"What is it we're missing then?"

"We just need to let someone in," Craig stared at him levelly.

"Easier said than done," Stan replied a little too sharply.

"Easier than you think."

Stan looked at Craig. He had always equated him with a brick wall since that had always been his backdrop. At the moment, he found it had a different meaning altogether. He looked at Craig and saw that Craig _was_ a wall, unyielding and sturdy and constant. Before he knew what he was doing he had leaned in and kissed him. Craig stilled under him for a moment before softening and snaked his arms around Stan's waist pulling him closer. Stan cradled Craig's head with his hands and deepened the kiss gently stroking his jaw with his thumbs. Craig made the most astonishing sound as his tongue explored the inside of Craig's mouth. Craig responded by pressing his hips against Stan's and sliding his hands over his shoulder blades to grab at his shoulders from behind sending a wonderful thrill up his spine.

The far off, shrill giggling of a student brought them out of their own world and Craig slowly pulled his face away allowing Stan to put his fingers into his hair. It had felt so good and right that Stan wasn't ready for the repercussions of his actions; yet again he moved before thinking. Only this time Craig wasn't disgustedly pushing him away or trying to advance his own status in life. He tightened his grip on Stan and breathed with the most heartbreaking look of longing in his eyes.

"Stan, are you sure about this? You're only here for a short time," Craig's voice threatened to break.

"I don't know," he brought their foreheads together and breathed in Craig's scent of hazel nut coffee co-mingling with generic body wash. It felt so right being with him at that moment he didn't want to think about anything else.

"Is it okay if we try?"

Stan opened his eyes, gazing into two warm grey orbs. "Can you handle it?"

Craig smirked. "If this is just for the rest of the week then you're an ass but I think I can deal."

"If?" Stan smiled and wrapped his arms around Craig.

"This could be a purely physical thing," Craig murmured, eyes fluttering closed as Stan gently rubbed his back. Stan studied his face and realized that Craig had a void inside him just as big as Stan's. Maybe it was a glorious mistake to try to fill them in with each other.

"Or maybe not," Stan pressed a kiss to Craig's temple.

Craig's eyes flew open and he looked at Stan very seriously. "Don't make me any promises."

Stan nodded and the two detached themselves sharing one swift kiss before returning inside. The next few classes were as much fun as the first two. Stan glanced often at Craig as he took the opportunity to get caught up on grading papers. Occasionally Craig would look up and smirk at him with dark eyes Stan couldn't wait to find out what they were promising him. Once the school day was over Craig made his preparations for the next day while Stan watched.

"So," Craig flung his bag around his torso and shoved his hands into his pockets, "do you want to come over?"

Stan studied him for a moment. "Is it a good idea?"

Craig blinked at him. "Let's find out."

Stan smirked and nodded. They agreed that Stan would follow Craig to his apartment so that they wouldn't have to return to the school. Craig lived on the other side of Denver from the campus. Stan felt his adrenaline kicking in during the drive and wondered how much longer he had to endure it before they got to Craig's. Finally they pulled into a drive and after Craig opened the gate it was only a matter of carefully driving over speed bumps that sent wonderful thrills of anticipation through his body. He pulled into a parking spot and Craig waited for him before they made their way upstairs to Craig's apartment. Stan watched as he turned the key in the lock and pushed the door open. Craig turned just enough to give Stan a smirk over his shoulder causing something deep inside him to snap.

He knocked their bodies together grasping Craig's waist and fiercely attacking his mouth. Craig backed up into the unit and broke the kiss long enough to toss his bag to the side letting out a breath as Stan kicked the door closed behind them. Craig immediately threaded his hands into Stan's hair and brought their mouths together again. Stan felt the blood in his body rush to his head as Craig lightly grazed his scalp with his nails and widened his mouth more so he could thoroughly invade Craig's mouth with his tongue. Craig let out a breathy moan as Stan freed the back of Craig's shirt and slid a hand up across his cool skin. They broke apart long enough for Stan to fumble with the buttons of Craig's vest and dress shirt. Stan found it difficult to focus on the little pieces of plastic and metal, however, as Craig licked, sucked, and bit his neck.

Finally Stan got the last of the buttons undone and clawed the fabric off his shoulders. Craig slid his hands up the front of Stan's shirt starting hungrily and slowing down the higher he pushed it up.

"God," Craig breathed and took a step back, holding the front of Stan's shirt up with his fist.

"I'm not that into voyeurism, Craig," Stan teased reaching behind himself to start gathering up the back of his shirt and pulled it over his head.

"Baby, you better get used to it," Craig's voice dropped into a husky whisper. His eyes were half lidded and darkened with lust. Stan smirked and let his shirt drop to the floor. Craig breathed in deeply as he ran his hands over the muscles of Stan's chest. Stan dipped his head to trail kisses long Craig's jaw and bury his nose in Craig's hair. Craig let out pleased murmurs and began pulling Stan with him as he walked backwards through his apartment. Stan found Craig's mouth again, kisses growing increasingly feverish as they neared Craig's bedroom. Craig bumped the back of his knees against the end of his mattress and broke apart long enough for the two of them to kick off their shoes.

Stan watched as Craig undid and removed his belt in one fluid motion dropping it to the floor with a lusty smirk. He grabbed Stan by the back of the neck and climbed backwards onto the bed on his knees, pulling Stan with him. Stan looked at him and placed both hands on Craig's hips to steady him as Craig leaned in for another kiss. Stan made it a brief one and ran his hands up and down Craig's sides licking his lips and letting out a small sigh.

"I haven't exactly done this with another guy before," he felt weird admitting it at that particular moment but pleased with himself for being honest.

Craig smirked again and pressed closer, Stan hissed a little at the feeling of Craig's growing erection against his leg. "I kind of figured."

Stan nodded and slid a hand down Craig's back, over his ass, and down the back of his leg to grab hold of the back of his knee. He resumed their feverish kissing as he tilted Craig backwards onto the bed. Stan pressed himself onto Craig, feeling his lower extremities twitch as Craig let out a superb moan when Stan's thigh pressed between his legs. It was almost too much for Stan feeling Craig writhe beneath him and he lifted some of his weight off of him by pushing up on his elbows.

"I take it you know what you're doing," Stan raised an amused eyebrow.

Craig let out a shaky breath, "Don't think about it, Stan. I know how to get mine."

That did it for Stan and any other reservations he had threatening to spill from his mouth about them flew away. He full on attacked Craig's neck made easier by the fact that Craig had arched his back and threw back his head when Stan added just a little more pressure with his thigh letting another moan escape his lips. Stan felt a little bit of instinct take over and rolled his hips against Craig's grinding their clothed erections together. Craig hissed and groaned as he bucked his own hips in response while running his pale fingers deliciously through Stan's hair.

"Fuck, _Stan_," Craig groaned into his ear and reached between them to start undoing their pants. Stan rolled to the side to assist and within moments they were both finally naked. Craig hooked a leg around Stan's hip as he rolled back on top of Craig. Stan wasn't sure what he should do next when Craig tilted his head back towards his nightstand drawer, stretching his lean, catlike body for Stan's eye to feast upon. Stan barely registered him rummaging through the drawer as he ran a hand over Craig's ribs and placed kisses along his slightly toned stomach. Craig slinked back and handed Stan a condom while keeping a small tube of lubricant. Stan freed the condom from its wrapper and rolled it onto himself. He could barely pay attention as Craig took that moment to be quite distracting by preparing himself with the lube. He watched as Craig's chest rose and fell while he probed himself with slicked up fingers. His pale skin had begun to flush pink and only got worse when his eyes met Stan's. He smirked at him then raised an eyebrow. Stan heard him recap the tube and let it drop to the floor.

"Need some help?"

"_Christ_," Stan hissed and checked the condom before rolling back between Craig's spread out legs.

Sex with Craig was different from what Stan was used to. A j_esuschristthisfeelsfantastic_ kind of different. He figured all he had to do at first was just get his dick in there and keep thrusting but Craig wasn't kidding when he said he could get his. He arched his back in a way that when Stan thrust in he felt something that made Craig hiss all sorts of wonderful sounds. After he had gotten into the rhythm he figured, what the hell, he was already this far into a gay venture and grabbed Craig's cock with one hand while steadying his hips with the other.

Craig hadn't been expecting Stan to take any initiative like _that_ apparently and his eyes flew open and rolled in his direction. Stan liked it more and more the way Craig's kiss bruised lips formed around his name.

"Oh God, _Stan_, more," he moaned and Stan was only too happy to oblige. He only half wondered how much longer he could hold out when he couldn't anymore and came inside Craig grunting his name at the same time. He still felt hard and kept thrusting albeit at a lessened pace. Craig let out another moan and after a few more strokes he came all over Stan's hand. Stan stopped thrusting and slowly stroked Craig from base to tip, biting his lip as Craig's head fell back his face twisted in ecstasy over his prolonged orgasm. Stan wondered if he had done something wrong with the way Craig was trembling but when those grey eyes finally trained on him he saw _it hadn't been wrong_ _at all_. He slowly pulled himself out letting Craig stretch his legs while he searched for something to use to clean off his hand.

"God_damn_, Stan," Craig breathed and gestured to a towel. Stan leaned over, still trying to catch his breath, and grabbed it. He cleaned himself up with half of the towel and helped Craig with the other. Craig tugged it from Stan's hand and threw it on the ground himself and inched over to make room for him. Stan allowed himself to sink into the space and felt Craig entwine their fingers together as they came down. Stan studied Craig's profile feeling incredibly at peace and warm as his heartbeat slowed. Craig's lips were parted as he controlled his breathing eyes half lidded and wandering in Stan's direction.

Stan rolled over onto his back and gestured for Craig to come closer. Something warm flashed in Craig's eyes and he rolled over to rest his head on top of Stan's chest. Stan smiled at the feeling of Craig's hair tickling his shoulder and after Craig snaked an arm around his middle Stan wrapped both of his around the smaller body.

"This is nice," he murmured, nuzzling into Craig's hair.

"Mm," Craig replied, pulling away briefly to tug his comforter over them before melting back into Stan's embrace.

"That was great, thank you."

"No, thank _you_," Craig sighed contentedly. "For a fucker whining about not knowing his way around a dick that was pretty unbelievable."

Stan felt himself chuckle and relished in the feeling of Craig's smile on his skin. They fell silent, just enjoying the feel of each other's skin and running their hands over shoulders and plains of muscle getting used to the touch. Stan stared at Craig's ceiling, it really had been nice and Craig was an incredible human being. He glanced down at him feeling Craig's steady exhale and stilled fingers signaling he had drifted off to sleep. Stan pressed his face into Craig's hair and inhaled. He liked the scent of him; he liked the feel of him. He continued to gently rub warm circles over Craig's shoulder as he felt exhaustion get the better of him. All he knew as he closed his eyes and let it was that he could be persuaded to use his extra week of vacation to stay if it meant more time with Craig.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** This is pretty much what the whole fic was about. Just… them having sex or something. Heh.


	3. Chapter 3

Quarters for a Five Dollar Bill

Chapter Three

Warning: Sexual content.

* * *

><p>Stan was able to stay an extra week in Colorado. His agent called him to see how things were going and noting Stan's tone she suggested he head back on a late Saturday flight. Stan helped his mother with some heavy lifting during the days and would make the drive to Denver to have dinner with Craig. And by dinner he meant a lot of sex. Well, he'd be lying if he had only been interested in the sex. There were a few hours each day where they just sat around; Stan would keep up with his stretching routine while Craig fiddled with his guitar. He liked watching Craig when he got lost in strumming his guitar; it felt nice and cozy. Craig said he never wrote anything, just liked playing to relieve stress and clear his mind before working on new lesson plans.<p>

Stan had learned so much about Craig in just a few short days that he was genuinely worried about what would happen when it was time for him to leave. When he told Craig about his scheduled flight, a disappointing silence fell between them.

"Well," Craig sniffed dismissively, "guess you'll be glad to get back to training and all that."

Stan frowned and reached out to turn Craig's face towards his. "If I was, would I have even come over tonight?"

Craig's eyes widened slightly before his face slowly morphed into one of his smirks. "So where do we go from here?"

"I don't want to pretend none of this happened," Stan said with absolute certainty.

"I thought we'd treat it as purely physical?" Craig raised an eyebrow.

Stan swallowed the lump forming in his throat. "I don't think I can settle for that, Craig. I don't think you can either."

Craig looked down as his hands. "Stan, I just don't see how it will be possible. I want you here not on the other side of the country."

Stan felt a flash of hope fill him. "You want me here?"

Craig opened his mouth to say something and caught himself, making a small choking sound. "I'm a little attached to you now."

Stan watched Craig unbelievingly; the whole drive he had been thinking the same thing. How stupid was it that someone could come in and intrude on his life the way Craig had done? He thought back to when he wondered about each other filling their voids and realized that it had actually happened. Maybe not all the way, but enough for this inevitable separation to be very tough for the both of them.

"Do you understand how big a deal that is for me?"

"Yes," Stan sighed. Craig looked at him sadly and crawled into his lap wrapping his arms around Stan's neck and resting his cheek on top of Stan's head. Stan put a hand on Craig's leg, thumb tracing the outline of his kneecap through the fabric of his jeans. He wrapped his free arm around Craig's waist and turned his head to put his face in his shoulder. They sat like that until Stan had to drive back to South Park.

Craig insisted he spend his last day with his family but promised to meet him up for lunch at the airport. They decided to try the long distance thing. Craig called Stan on weekdays since he had the most irregular schedule out of the two. Stan phoned on the weekends, looking around his empty condo and feeling his chest ache without Craig around.

"I know what you mean," Craig sighed into the phone while he was grading papers after school. "I was having the best dream when I went to reach out and I fell off my bed flat on my face."

"Fuck that," Stan laughed, he was sitting in his living room doing arm curls. "Tell me more about this dream."

Craig made a dismissive laugh and mumbled softly into the receiver. "There are still students in here doing make-up work."

Stan grinned mischievously. "Then let me guess. Since it has been a few weeks, I must have been on top. Were you face up or face down?"

Craig cleared his throat, amusement in his voice. "Up."

"Mm," Stan switched the phone from one ear to the other as well as his weights. "I like that best when I can see everything you're doing and all the faces you make. Do you have any idea how crazy you drive me when you throw your head back and practically scream my name?"

"_Watch it_," Craig hissed but Stan could tell from all the miles away that this was getting him worked up.

"Like a wanton whore," Stan smirked. "You know, for someone so anti-religious you sure do call out to God, Jesus, and all of the heavens a lot."

"Mr. Tucker?" Stan had to drop the weight to prevent an injury as one of Craig's students' voices came through from a distance. "Are you okay? You look like you're about to shit yourself."

"Fine," Craig's voice was forcefully chipper which was so out of character that Stan clutched his side laughing. "_That was not cool_," he hissed into the phone.

"Not my fault you choose to call me while you had students in the room," Stan wiped at his eyes. "I miss you."

Craig stayed silent on the other end; Stan listened as he flipped over papers and wrote on them. "Me, too."

That was their pattern for many weeks.

Once the team was cleared from end-of-season training, Stan booked a flight to Denver. Craig bemoaned on the phone how he'd have to actually buy groceries that were good for you, that he had gotten used to sprawling out across the entire bed, and Stan had better take him out to dinner. Stan promised him dinners out and dinners in and long drives in his rental and pretty much anything else Craig wanted.

"I don't want your _money_, Stan."

"Just me, right," Stan smiled into the phone as he waited at the terminal. He couldn't even sleep on the flight and for the first time in probably ever he was excited to be heading to Colorado.

At the airport he quickly made his way towards baggage claim, where he and Craig were supposed to meet up. He purposely took his time getting there wanting to see if he could catch sight of Craig without him knowing. When he did he was surprised to see that Craig was huddled up eyes darting around anxiously for any sign of Stan. It made him smile ridiculously wide and he took pity deciding the sooner he had his arms around Craig the better they both would be. He wondered if Craig would run to him or even call out to him. He knew neither would happen and sure enough the only public excitement Craig showed when their eyes met was to break out into a relieved smile. Stan wasn't beyond that other emotional stuff, however, and nearly knocked Craig over with a huge hug.

"God I missed you," he breathed in Craig's scent.

"I was hoping you'd make it to the car first," Craig groaned. "Now we have to walk through the parking lot like we aren't a couple of fags."

Stan laughed and reluctantly let him go. They waited fifteen agonizing minutes before his suitcase popped up then made a beeline for Craig's car. Craig talked about how he gave the administrators at the school a good scare when he asked for three days off. He had never used a single one of his sick or vacation days. His students were distraught.

"You really didn't have to," Stan playfully reprimanded him. He wanted Craig to change absolutely nothing about his life for him even though he knew it was impossible. Part of him was selfishly glad that he'd taken time off.

"I've resorted to phone sex and worked my ass off for too long to settle for half days with you," Craig retorted and glared at the traffic daring it to get in his way. Stan had to look away to hide his ecstatic grin.

They didn't bother hauling Stan's suitcase in when they got to Craig's and didn't even make it to his bedroom before clothing was clawed off with two and a half months' worth of pent up want. They pretty much spent the rest of the day alternating fucking and snoozing on Craig's couch. Stan's favorite part was crushing Craig between himself and the cushions when they were laying there touching each other. Craig would wriggle out an arm and let his hand fall with a loud smack between his shoulder blades.

"How is it even possible you've gotten bigger?"

Stan laughed and took the opportunity to show Craig what all he could do with his new muscles.

It was the third night he was in town when he made the suggestion that Craig move out to where he was. Craig stayed silent for a long time while Stan talked about the area.

"It's sunny so you'd have to get used to that but I checked around and there are quite a few places I think you'd like. They have this bar with your kind of music. I go there when I miss you too much."

"Stan," Craig sighed. "What about my job?"

"There are plenty of schools you could teach at. They have better funding but there are students in the same situations as the ones you teach now. A few of us on the team do volunteer work at the youth centers in the city. The kids could use someone like you out there."

Craig looked at him and bit his lip thoughtfully.

"You don't have to answer now," Stan gave him a small smile. "It's impossible for me to come back here since that's not how things work for players so I thought maybe I could get you to go—"

"Yes," Craig blurted.

"What?"

"Yeah," Craig smirked. "I want to go."

Stan sat up and took both of Craig's arms in his hands. "Seriously?"

"Didn't I say yes already, Stan?" Craig looked irritated and embarrassed. "No need to be such a chick about it."

"This is great," Stan beamed and kissed Craig. "I can't believe it."

"It'll have to be at the end of the school year," Craig threaded his fingers in Stan's hair. "I can't just leave like that."

"Of course not," Stan said quietly. "Tell me whatever it is you need, okay?"

"Well," Craig drew Stan closer and lowered his voice. "I'm going to need a place to stay."

Stan smiled and looked him dead in the eye. "How about with me?"

Craig took a deep breath and made a face. "But you snore," he teased. "And you have the worst bathroom habits."

Stan nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, you'd have to suffer through daily meals with me, joint showers, and making purchasing decisions with me."

Craig snorted and shoved at his arm. "It'd be the worst." Stan kissed Craig's smirk away.

When he went back home he excitedly looked around to see what he could do to make Craig feel like it was his home too. He knew Craig had a lot of books so he decided that he could take over Stan's poor excuse for an office and use it as a library. He told Craig his plans and spent half an hour holding the phone slightly away from his ear as he raged a seemingly endless stream of expletives. Stan didn't care; he was too excited for the move and actually ticked off his calendar making sure to throw it away before Craig arrived.

Stan drummed his thumbs on the steering wheel; unable to keep his smile off his face as he drove Craig home from the airport. Home, he glanced over at the passenger seat to see Craig rub sleepily at his eyes. The dumbass had insisted on paying for his plane ticket. He originally wanted to drive himself and all his things but Stan wouldn't have been able to drive with him. So they compromised. Stan had Craig's things sent in via trucking company and Craig got to buy his own ticket for the flight. He shook his head Craig could be ridiculously stubborn.

He let Craig doze until they got nearer to his condo. Craig balked at the building and grumbled under his breath as they pulled up the car. Stan smiled and watched Craig as they entered the house. Craig's eyebrows furrowed and he continued his grumblings as he explored the condo. Stan caught some of Craig's words remarking on all the waste and disbelieving that someone actually lived in a place like this. Once Craig began spying some of his own belongings (which Stan promised he could move anywhere he wanted) he started to relax. They returned to the living room and Craig put his hands in his back pockets as he turned to face him.

"This place is too fucking big, Stan."

Stan simply laughed.

"Seriously, how could you stand being here by yourself?"

"I don't have to worry about that anymore, right? Be honest, you must like something around here."

Craig shifted from one foot to the other and nodded at the floor where a huge soft rug was spread out. "I like that carpet."

Stan grinned and tackled him onto it attacking Craig's sides with his fingers.

The thing Stan was most looking forward to in living with Craig was all the new things he was going to learn about him. He had often compared Craig to a cat and marveled at exactly how accurate that was. Whenever he came home from training he found Craig curled up on the floor with a book next to him in front of the ceiling to floor windows of his living room. He decided one day before heading out for training to move one of his plush chairs closer to the window so Craig wouldn't have to use the floor again. Craig showed his appreciation that night by coaxing him outside for some sexy fun time in the pool.

One curious thing Stan did learn about Craig was that if the man was able to fuck music he would. He figured this out one morning on the weekend when he woke up in an empty bed. He wandered through the rooms until he heard a faint humming he recognized as belonging to Craig along with the buzzing of guitars and drums from a pair of headphones covering his ears. He was rummaging through the kitchen, helping himself to whatever was stowed away in the pantry and refrigerator and Stan's insides warmed at the sight. Craig's presence felt _so right_ here.

Stan leaned in the shadowy doorway watching his lover tap his foot to the beat in his ears as he made himself some breakfast. Stan's stomach complained with hunger as the smell of batter hit the frying pan but he told his stomach to chill because Craig was doing the most amazing thing at the moment. Usually, Craig kept himself collected, unless they were fucking each other's brains out or shoving their tongues down each other's throats like horny sixteen year olds. He would hold himself a little stiffly, broadcasting that others should keep their distance. Stan wondered if he'd ever get to see Craig loosen up outside of the bedroom… or the dining room table… or the backseat of a car… or…

Stan shook his head and smiled. Craig was in nothing but a pair of sweatpants that rode low just barely holding up despite the taut string around the band. He had a serious case of bed head and his neck was littered with pink marks that Stan had placed there thinking "Mine, mine, _mine_" each time he made one. Craig had fastened his iPod to one of those jogging bands around his arm and tossed the cord of his headphones over his shoulder.

Stan heard a loud guitar riff from one of Craig's favorite indie bands and watched as his lips mouthed the lyrics. Craig's eyes fluttered closed and he took sharp breaths as his hips moved to the music. He was totally having a moment, melding his mind with the melody and Stan would have felt incredibly jealous if Craig hadn't slid his fingers over every mark made by Stan on his body, smirk playing on his lips between verses. He would have been completely content with Craig doing this all on his own but Craig bit his lower lip showing just a hint of teeth and Stan knew he had to get involved.

He waited until Craig's back was turned towards him then sneaked close enough so his body heat wouldn't warn Craig to his presence. He reached out and lightly ran his fingertips over Craig's hipbone causing Craig's eyes to fly open and head jerk around to face him. Craig's face flushed red and mouth gaped in alarm and embarrassment.

"_Jesus Christ_, Stan! You nearly gave me a heart attack," Craig breathed and reached for his headphones. Stan firmly clapped his hands over Craig's, pulling one side of the headphones down enough to whisper in his ear.

"Leave them on," he felt Craig shiver and moved the headphones back into place. Stan kept Craig's back to his chest and soothingly ran his hands over Craig's hipbones. As more of the song played he felt Craig relax and reached over to turn off the stove so neither would be distracted. He helped steer Craig's waist back into his writhing dance and guided him towards one of the vacant counters. Craig placed both of his hands on the countertop and pushed back onto him, eyes fluttering closed again as he lost himself in the music and feeling of Stan's fingers brushing everywhere.

Stan observed Craig's reactions as he stroked his ribs, ran warm thumbs over his nipples, and palmed just above his growing erection. Craig refused to open his eyes and the combination of loss of sight and intensity of sound made his body sing for Stan in a way it never had before. Stan undid the string of Craig's sweatpants letting them slither to the floor and was struck with a wonderful idea. He began whispering things against Craig's skin, just little things like how sexy he was and how turned on he made Stan. Knowing Craig couldn't hear any of it made it all the better but he did shiver at the feeling of Stan's warm breath. Stan grinned and dropped his own pajama bottoms. He was going to have fun with this one.

Craig didn't hold a single noise back as Stan began slow and steady thrusts. Stan purposefully took his time, running his lips over Craig's neck.

"I want you," he breathed.

Craig made some indiscernible noise as he pushed back on Stan sending him deeper inside. Stan slid a hand from Craig's navel up over his chest and cupped his chin gently directing Craig's head back. Stan refused to change his pace, wanting to take his time. Craig yelled as he came faster than he ever had before. Stan wasn't anywhere near done and continued his steady thrusts.

"I need you," he buried his nose in Craig's hair, hands sliding down to stroke the skin near Craig's rehardening cock. Craig reached up and around his own head to grab at Stan's hair, encouraging him on with his pushing. Stan continued to run his hands over Craig's skin and slid it back lower; teasing and stroking more mouth watering sounds from Craig. He couldn't last much longer no matter how long he wanted to hold out. He grunted and increased his thrusts and stroking of Craig's dick, when he felt like he was about to come he nosed off the headphones on Craig's left ear.

"I love you," he confessed huskily. Craig moaned and the two came at the same time. Neither could stay on their feet so Stan set them both down on the floor, using their discarded pants as cushions. Craig gasped loudly while they were pooled on the floor, their clothing now sweat and semen stained. He looked at Stan with a vulnerable expression despite the fact they were both panting from exertion.

"Are you serious?"

Stan didn't feel like moving because fuck it all if each time they had sex it wasn't better than the previous but he leaned forward anyway and cupped Craig's face with his hands.

"Absolutely."

Craig made a sound like a gasp crossed with a sob. Stan felt his eyes soften and tenderly kissed Craig's lips.

"I love you, Craig Tucker."

"Me too," Craig sniffed and rolled his reddening eyes in frustration. He wiped at his nose and looked Stan in the eye. "I'm so fucking in love with you. I can't believe I'm here. I can't believe I packed up my life and moved out here because of _you_."

Stan could only smile and softly kissed Craig's jaw as all the pent up emotions came streaming out of his eyes and mouth.

"All because you looked at me with those fucking _unbelievable_ eyes and said you wanted me here and I've never been happier. Seriously, why – no – _how_ did you do this to me, Stan?"

"Some closed off prick once told me it was because people change," Stan pulled him closer.

Craig chuckled and wiped at his face before leaning into Stan's chest.

"You better not change any more."

"Not even for the better?"

Craig threw his sweat covered arms around his neck and kissed him breathless.

"It couldn't get any better than this."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** The end! Um… I hope it was satisfying. I don't really see anything else to add to it so there it ends. Kind of a stupid ending but… it was just an exercise in writing some porn to be honest and… I feel successful in that respect. Thanks for all the reviews and I'll see you next time!


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